the birth story

My mom arrived in Seattle on January 19. We spent her first few days here organizing a few baby things she brought, going for long walks, eating ice cream, and baking. On the evening of the 21st, Mom, Jack and I cozied up in our bed to watch the two-hour premiere episode of this season of LOST. We ate a huge bowl of buttery, stove-popped popcorn. I went to sleep trying to visualize my uterus contracting and my pelvis opening.

Thursday
At 4:10 am, a popping feeling woke me up, followed immediately by a gush of LOTS of warm water. I remember being surprised by how warm it was and how much there was. I hopped out of bed to try to keep the sheets dry, and Jack and I fumbled for towels. We both felt so excited and happy. We knew it could still be a while (though the definition of “a while” turned out to be different than we expected!), so we tried to go back to sleep, and succeeded in getting a little more rest. I started having mild contractions almost right away, but they were extremely mild.

At 10:30 am, we visited Cindie (the midwife) at her office for an appointment that had been scheduled several weeks prior. She hooked me up to the fetal monitoring device and tracked the baby’s responsiveness and my contractions for about thirty minutes. Everything looked good, so she told us to go home, relax, and try a couple of natural methods of speeding things up. We went home, kissed a lot, napped, walked, and counted contractions. No real progression.

That night I woke up twice and counted contractions for an hour each time. They were coming regularly (every 7 or 8 minutes, maybe), but not getting closer or stronger. I kept hoping they would intensify because I knew that if they didn’t by 7 am, we would lose the option of giving birth in the birthing center.

Friday
They didn’t intensify. We called Cindie and she explained our options. She seemed to think that going to the hospital at that point and starting pitocin might be the best of the options. I burst into tears at the thought of that. I really wanted to give my body every chance to progress naturally, and I didn’t feel like I had even started yet. And I hadn’t surrendered my hopeful ideas about the birth going more the way I had envisioned it. But it made sense – so we went to the hospital.

At the hospital, we found out that when my insurance had changed on Jan 1, it had changed to a plan with very light coverage; we’d end up paying a lot ourselves. We started talking about a home birth, which I felt so much better about. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to start Pit. It was a huge relief to leave the hospital with a plan to move to Hannah’s house for the birth.

At home, I ate some eggs scrambled with castor oil for lunch. Around 3pm my contractions started to feel a bit stronger. At 4 I went to an acupuncturist. She stuck needles in eight or twelve spots on my body, and connected some of the needles to each other. An energy current ran through them until I could feel a light buzzing. She plucked tuning forks and I could feel and hear the vibrating tones. It was relaxing, and by the time I left and was in the car on the way to Hannah’s, the contractions were definitely getting intense.

We arrived at Hannah’s around 6pm. For the first time since my water broke, my appetite was completely gone. I’d been having mild contractions for about 36 hours, and then stronger contractions for 2-3 hours, but when Cindie did a cervical check, she found that I was not dilated at all.

Still, I didn’t feel crushed by this – I had kept my expectations very minimal, and was prepared to keep working. My contractions kept getting stronger, and I got in the bath, which made them much easier to handle. At some point that night I threw up a few times. All night I labored, most of it in the tub, sometimes walking around, hanging on Jack, on the birth ball, or on the bed. All night, somebody stayed with me, or sometimes two people – Jack, Hannah, Mom, or Cindie. Whoever wasn’t with me tried to get some sleep. They were all amazing – rubbing my lower back and encouraging me. Hannah was especially amazing – she had read several doula books and spent some time questioning a friend of hers in midwife training, and she stayed with me tirelessly.

My whole body would shake uncontrollably, during or in between contractions. It reminded me of how I felt after I had hiked down into the Grand Canyon, when I finally sat down and my legs were shaking from exhaustion.

Pressure on my lower back helped the most during contractions, but after laboring for so long, the spot on my lower back was getting bruised from being massaged so much!

The time passed more quickly for me than it did for my labor team, I’m sure. Throughout all of my active labor, I wasn’t aware of much of anything except the present moment and the contraction I was in. I had work to keep me busy and to keep me from getting sleepy. For my helpers, the night must have seemed interminable.

Saturday
After hard labor all night, Cindie checked me again and found that I was only 2 cm dilated. We were all very tired. Cindie got me to eat most of a piece of peanut butter toast and a pear, to keep my energy up. I kept laboring.

By noon, I was 4 cm dilated and tired. Cindie suggested that we consider the hospital again, as she felt that my body might be too exhausted to finish this. At this point, I felt totally calm about going to the hospital – I felt that I had worked as hard as I could, and given my body every chance to progress naturally – for some reason, my cervix just wouldn’t open! The people at the hospital had been extremely kind and helpful. Plus, we had found out before we left the hospital yesterday that we could get retroactive medicaid (or a similar kind of insurance) to cover the cost of the hospital birth (at that point yesterday, we had decided against it anyway because I felt so much better about going to Hannah’s house first).

Around 3pm we got to the hospital. I was in the same room that my friend Jessica Ribera had given birth in about six months earlier. I got in the tub, laboring as always, and was strapped into the external fetal monitor and contraction monitor. (throughout my labor at the hospital, I found that wearing these was one of the most annoying parts of labor! The nurse couldn’t get it to stay on the right spot to get a strong infant heartbeat, and so she was constantly adjusting it, and I could feel it tight on my belly, which pressure seemed to make my contractions hurt even more.)

Then they started a very light dose of Pit in my IV. It did make my contractions a little stronger, and after a short time they stopped the pit and my contractions continued strongly, naturally. Then after a few more hours I think I tired and they had to do more Pit.

By 10 pm I was 91/2 cm dilated. I had just a little cervical lip, and Cindie tried to move it while I pushed through a contraction, but I wasn’t strong enough to keep pushing, and we couldn’t move it.

At 11pm, to give me a rest, they gave me a dose of fentanyl, a narcotic analgesic which would reduce my pain and allow me to rest more between contractions for about an hour, hoping that the rest would give me the strength to keep going. They were also feeding me packs of Gu energy gel around this time to keep my strength up.

At 11:30pm, after a half hour on fentanyl, I suddenly had a much stronger and uncontrollable urge to push, and with that push, we were past the cervical lip. Thus began my nearly three hours of pushing.

Sunday
Jack, Hannah, Cindie, Mom, and nurse Mary stood around me throughout the pushing, helping me lift my legs, tuck my chin, and push. It felt impossible. I felt so weak at this point that I couldn’t even lift my arm to indicate that a contraction was starting. I could barely say “water” to ask for a drink. My body was done. Nurse Mary kept commanding me – lift your legs, relax your thighs, don’t moan, use all that air to push, tuck your chin, keep going – and it was very annoying But with all of their help (and supernatural help as well), I managed to do some of those things, and to keep pushing even when it felt like nothing was happening.

When you could begin to see the head, they pulled out a mirror to show me; I looked and didn’t care. I couldn’t think about it. When you could really see the head coming out, they pulled out the mirror again, and I reached down and felt the soft top of her head, but it all kind of freaked me out, and I just had to focus on pushing.

A piece of her long, dark hair came out first. All my helpers thought it was hysterical to watch this piece of hair move out and in. I was not finding in humor in anything, but I remember thinking I was glad they had something to amuse them since they had been working so hard.

Finally, at 2:14, they told me that I had pushed the head out, and I was so relieved to hear it that I unwisely did not not stop pushing on that push, and pushed the whole body out at the same time. She was out! I had torn my perineum with that last, too hard push, but I didn’t care, because I didn’t have to push again. I had endured 36 hours of early labor and 36 hours of active labor, with almost three hours of pushing at the end. I was so relieved to be done.

They slapped her wet, white with vernix body onto my chest. She cried a little. I felt shocked that she was here and relieved that it was over. She rooted around to nurse. There was a person in the world who hadn’t been there before. Jack and I made her. It blew my mind. I was still shaking.

Rosemary’s one minute and five minute Apgar scores were both 9.5. At birth, her head was extremely cone-shaped because of the angle it had been at when I pushed her out. Her head had been cocked a little, which was part of what had made the pushing progress slow. The cone shape was gone within twelve hours, though. She had dark hair, about an inch and half long, and big blue eyes. Her skin was perfect, with just a tiny bruise on one eyelid. She weighed 7 pounds, 8 oz, and was 19 inches long.

Later, Cindie told me an hour had passed. The baby had been cleaned off, and cord cut by Mimi, while she laid on my chest. I hadn’t delivered the placenta. Rosemary went to Jack, who took off his shirt to get some skin to skin bonding with his daughter.

Cindie had stitched up my perineum. The tear hadn’t been deep, but I could still feel it stinging, and I felt swollen all over.

I tried to push out the placenta, but I was still in so much pain, and so exhausted, that I couldn’t do it. So Cindie had to reach in to deliver it, and while she was, I was able to push a little and help it out. However, that broke the stitches, and I had to be re-sown.

Because I was so sore and exhausted, they put a catheter in so that I wouldn’t have to try to get up for the next ten hours or so.

Sometime after 4 am, everything was done that needed to be done. Mom was asleep on a fold out chair, Hannah was asleep sitting up, and Jack was asleep on an egg crate and blanket on the floor. Rosemary was bundled in a blanket and laying next to me, and we fell asleep, too.

how to make the baby come faster

Yesterday, I:

went shopping

made bread

took a long walk

ate spicy Nepalese tofu curry

wrote a letter to babygirl urging her to come

watched the very exciting LOST premiere

went to sleep visualizing my uterus contracting and my pelvis opening

At 4:10 am, I woke to a popping feeling low in my stomach, followed by a gush of warm water.
I seem to be in labor! – on my due date!

an open letter

Dear babygirl,

Your Mimi is here now, and so it’s time for you to come on out.  All of us have done about all we can – walked long miles on swollen feet, drunk sixteen cups of red raspberry leaf tea, taken in as many prostglandins as possible, eaten spicy curry, tried new yoga poses, cleaned your room, cleaned your parents’ room, organized and re-organized, started filling out the baby book, and prayed — all that’s left is a pogo stick, and I’m just not sure I’m up for it.

By the way, we have a new President now.  Everybody’s all full of hope because of President Obama.  Economically, it’s a bit of a rough time to be entering the world, but with him at the helm, our nation has its confidence momentarily renewed.  So don’t be afraid.  What I’m saying is, come on out.

You’ll want to be like your Mom in some ways, but don’t follow my example for coming out.  I was a week late.  According to the “Calendar of Memories” that Mimi brought to Seattle this week, here were some other noteworthy events from my infancy:

• I smiled every day in my first week of life
• I went to the mall at six days old
• I went to church at 13 days old
• I went to my first concert – the Sonshine Festival – at three weeks old.  Mimi carried me in the Snugli and DaddyB (Bobby?  BaBa?  Grandad? It’s not going to be G-Daddy; sorry, Dad)  was the emcee for the event.
• At five weeks old, I started sleeping through the night.  I was a good sleeper. Still am. Please imitate me in this.
• My first trip, at three months, was an overnight church retreat to New Life Ranch.  Yeah, I swam in the pool.
• At three months, I would fake cough to get Mimi’s attention
• I went to the movies at 4 months, and also made my radio debut on a commercial about the “Sonshine Cruise”
• On November 4, Mimi notes that I liked ice cream.  No wonder I have a HaagenDaaz weakness. It’s all her fault.
• Feb. 25: “Amy loves graham crackers!”
• Mar. 4: “Amy LOVES graham crackers!”
• At nine months old, “Amy turns away and acts shy when people say hi.”  So demure.
• By eleven months, I was walking.

Babygirl, those are just a few of the things we have to look forward to!  So why not come on out?

See you soon,

your loving Mother.

the baby on my belly

The midwife drew this tonight:

She says everything looks good, and I can start drinking some red rasberry leaf tea.

birds on branches

They fly over where the crib will be.  (Where the crib will be when we get the missing parts and finally put it together…but don’t worry, she’s starting out in a cradle in our room, so there’s no rush on the crib.)  It’s a real forest of a room.  If her room were a highschool dance, it would be called “Midwinter Night’s Dream.”

Thank God her room is not a highschool dance.

freezer foods

Thirteen days, more or less, to go.  My to-do list is getting worryingly short.  I’ve read all my books, the car seat is in the car, the bags are packed.

Today I made muffins to store in the freezer for quick snacks after babygirl gets here.

Adapted from “Company Muffins,” Simply in Season

3/4 cup flour
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/2 cups rolled oats
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 Tbs cinnamon
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt

Combine and stir well.

2 large tart apples (peeled, cored, shredded)
1 1/2 cups carrots (finely shredded)
1/2 cup craisins

Add to dry ingredients and stir to coat.  Make well in center.

2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup oil

Mix together in a separate bowl, then pour into flour mixture.  Stir just until moistened.  Fill muffin tins 3/4 full.  Bake at 375 for 18 minutes.

A little time intensive, what with the grating of carrots and apples. But hearty and healthy tasting.  Good.

birds, not yet a mobile

Thanks to Spool for the free pattern.

38 weeks, meet 16 weeks

38 weeks, some unsorted thoughts

Last night I had a dream that I was in early labor and my midwife suggested that I buy some very expensive mint chocolate chip ice cream and eat it to stay hydrated.

Ha!

When people talked about having swollen feet at the end of pregnancy, I thought they were complaining because their shoes didn’t fit and their ankles looked fat.  I did not know that swollen meant painful.  I did not know that after a couple of hours laying down, I would have to move very slowly to get up, because moving too fast would give me round ligament pain in my sides, because my balance would be off and my legs would be stiff, because it would hurt to place my swollen feet on the floor to walk to the bathroom.

Pregnancy becomes more surreal after 37 weeks, doesn’t it?  Try to grasp the idea that there is another person living inside my body.  She’s complete and ready to live outside my body, and if you could reach in and pluck her out, she’d be able to breathe and cry and send blood pumping through a fully formed human body.  But she’s living inside of me.  Look at me, and you see two people in one.

The pregnancy book I’ve skimmed through most recently is Birthing from Within.  It is kind of like The Artist’s Way meets pregnancy.  Written by midwife Pam England and psychologist Rob Horowitz, Birthing from Within is based on a childbirth class taught by England in New Mexico.  Focusing less on institutional procedures,  scientific facts, or the kinds of guidelines you’d find in “What to Expect,” Birthing from Within is a right-brained, zen-influenced guide to preparing for childbirth.  There were a couple of things I particularly appreciated about this book:

• The early chapter on creating art as a way of exploring your own feelings about giving birth is challenging, helpful, and unique.
• England emphasizes the reality of the pain of childbirth (Ina May’s books, in contrast, do make it sound too easy).   Birth pain is inevitable, but you can handle it.
• While American culture today focuses on the baby in birth, England shows how other cultures have also honored the re-birth of the woman as mother when she gives birth.  The late, most painful phase of labor and delivery, where the woman loses awareness of everything going on, knows nothing but what her body is doing, feels that the pain is too much and she will “die” — this England likens to the death of the former woman and the birth of the mother.  Mothers and Fathers are both accepting a “death” to an old life (of being free to go out to dinner, to the movies, to sleep through the night, to earn the same income, to career plans, etc.) and a birth into a new life.  An interesting thought, and perhaps especially important for women (like me, and like most women in the US today) who didn’t grow up imagining themselves as mothers.
• The most helpful chapter, overall, is the chapter on pain management techniques.  Of course, not having given birth yet, I can’t say how helpful they will be, but the chapter seems to me to be the most complete collection of natural pain management tools that I’ve found in a general pregnancy guide (discounting books that focus primarily on labor pain).

lullabies

It’s a little yuppie of me to have an ipod for the baby.

But I bought one.  A little one. A third-gen nano.

So here’s the music on her ipod.

Air
Andrew Bird
Belle and Sebastian
Billie Holiday
Bob Dylan
Bon Iver
Bonnie Prince Billy
Calexico
Califone
Decemberists
Denison Witmer
Explosions in the Sky

Fernando Ortega
Fleet Foxes
Gillian Welch
Help Me to Sing: Songs of the Sacred Harp
Hushabye Baby – Lullaby Renditions of George Strait
The Innocence Mission
Iron and Wine
Jack  Johnson
Joanna Newsom
Jon Foreman
Joni Mitchell
Jose Gonzales
Kings of Convenience
Mindy Smith
Over the Rhine
Rockabye Baby! Lullaby Renditions of Radiohead
Rosie Thomas
Shane and Shane
She and Him
Sigur Ros
Simon and Garfunkle
Songs: Ohia
Sufjan Stevens
Taize
Thom Yorke
Wye Oak

and Tim Keller sermons

Today I’m 36 weeks and 4 days along.  The midwife says baby has dropped and my iron levels are up (hematacrit percentage went from 29 to 34)! Yesterday we went Ikea shopping for babygirl’s room.  I’m feeling good.